


A How-To Guide

by pcrrycox



Category: Scrubs (TV)
Genre: Angst, Graphic Description, JDox, M/M, Major Character Injury, POV Second Person, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author is Crying, Trans JD, Violence, established JDox
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-24 11:32:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6152302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pcrrycox/pseuds/pcrrycox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This fic contains depictions of violence.  I tried to make them not so graphic, but it's there.  This is super angst-filled and depressing, so please read at your own risk and know that I'm very sorry. Established JDox, trans JD.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A How-To Guide

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. Okay. Frick. This idea has been rolling around in my head for some time now, especially since I heavily headcanon JD as a trans man. I know this shit is awful and overdone and that we need to just let JD fucking live, the poor guy, but I had a Bad Day and needed to write some sad-ass shit.   
> The POV in this fic (which is a one-shot, will not be continued) is second person and it's slightly inspired by a short story by Rebecca Meacham called "weights & measures" from her collection of short stories entitled "Let's Do".

**Step 1:** Survive

 

You don't notice them watching you from across the room as you sit at the bar, sipping on your usual, an appletini. You make idle chit-chat with the bartender. He's new here, new to the area, and you learn his name is Steve. He seems nice enough – a little flirty – and you're sure to mention that you and your fiance are both doctors at the hospital just down the street. You think you could become friends with him, that Turk would really like him too. He only laughs a little when you tell him about Rowdy.

You glance at your watch. Perry will be getting home from work just about now. You left him a note, telling him you were going to the bar for a couple drinks, but that you'd be home soon. Long day at work, you'd written in the note. You haven't been able to spend a night in with him in a while with the way your schedules work out, so you pay your tab and give Steve a kind smile, assuring him that you'll see him again soon.

You still don't notice them follow you outside, keeping a far enough distance away. You glance down at your ring, admiring it, the way it catches the light from the moon overhead. You walked here, not sure of how much you were going to drink. The apartment isn't that far away anyway, just a few blocks, so you didn't bother with a cab. As you round the corner, turning away from the hospital, you hear footsteps behind you, at least two sets.

At first, you don't think anything of it – a lot of people around here walk, what with all the traffic. But it's getting late and you only see a few cars drive past, their headlights blinding. You try to ignore the rising panic in your chest. You don't glance behind you because then the situation would be too real. Ignorance is bliss. You quicken your pace, walking a little faster as you take deep breaths that don't seem to help.

You're only two blocks from home when it happens. Two men, much larger than yourself, turn the corner a hundred feet in front of you and the footsteps speed up behind you. You want to scream, want to run, but you can't. You want to dart across the street, find somewhere safe, but it's dark, and the streetlight nearest you is broken. You realize you don't even have your cell phone on you. You just have the key to the apartment in your pocket, and that won't do you much good.

You close your eyes, tensing up as they close in on you. All you can smell is alcohol and one of them shoves your shoulder hard, pushing you into the alley. You try to cry out as the back of your head slams into the brick building, but you can't find your voice. You don't ask why they're doing this – you already know. You keep your eyes closed, and a sob breaks free as you're thrown to the ground. You ignore the horrible things they call you as you beg the God you don't believe in to let you survive this. The blows land over and over. You hear things crack and smell the coppery, metallic blood that you know is yours. Silent tears roll down your cheeks as you lay facedown on the ground. You just want it to stop.

And somehow, it does. In the distance, you hear sirens and their frantic footsteps as they run. You try to survey your injuries, but you're drifting in and out of consciousness and everything hurts. You don't fight the blackness that appears on the fringes of your vision when you open your eyes. There's nothing to see anyway. The sirens are closer now. You let yourself drift.

 

**Step 2:** Apologize

 

When you wake up for the first time, you immediately notice the pain. It's not sharp anymore, just dull and throbbing. You hear the steady beep of the heart monitor beside you and you know you're in the hospital. Strange to be in a bed instead of standing beside it. You don't open your eyes.

When you wake up the second time, you're more aware, more coherent, and the pain isn't as bad. They must have upped your meds. You slowly open your eyes, blinking against the harsh fluorescent lights reflecting off the white room. You wonder if the rooms are always this bright. And then you see him.

Perry is sitting in the chair next to the bed, pulled right up close. His upper body is on the bed and his breathing is even. Asleep. You can only imagine what he's been going through, how worried he was when you weren't home when you said you'd be. Jesus, you want to cry when you imagine his face when he gets the news that you were attacked.

You were attacked. It comes rushing back into your head and you can't bite back the cry that comes out of your mouth as you remember every kick, every punch, every foul word. Perry's eyes flash open, and you know he wasn't sleeping very soundly if that could wake him.

“JD,” he breathes, looking horrified and you can only imagine how awful you look.

“I'm so sorry,” you manage, your voice weak and hoarse. Hot tears spill over, running down your cheeks as you shake.

He looks at you incredulously, almost angry, but the anger fades away quickly. You must look like hell. “No, Newbie,” he says softly, taking your hand, which is one of the only things that doesn't hurt. “Don't apologize.”

This does nothing to help your tears stop flowing and you look down at your hand in his larger one. You just want to forget, but you know he's going to want you to talk about it. You make a strangled noise as you sob, but Perry holds back. He watches you like you're an injured animal, which you suppose that's exactly what you are. You can see he wants to comfort you, but isn't sure if he should touch you, for fear of your wounds, both physical and emotional.

You hate yourself for putting him through this. He doesn't deserve it. He's a good man, an even better fiance. You want to spend the rest of your life with him, but not if it's going to be like this, with you barely able to fend for yourself, having to rely on him to protect you. You hate it, hate that you were and _are_ helpless and that he'll gladly drop everything for you without a second thought. The devotion in his eyes almost makes you feel like you're taking advantage of him sometimes. But you love him, more than you've ever loved another person. You love him more than you love Turk, though you'd never tell Turk that.

And oh god, Turk. You can't imagine where he's at right now. Your best friend, who made it his job to worry about you ever since that minor incident in med school when some asshole knocked you out for “pretending to be a man.” You'd been no worse for the wear, just a small bruise on your chin where you'd taken the single punch, but ever since, Turk was protective of you, almost overly so. You love him for it, though, appreciate that he cares about you so much. You know that this is his worst fear so you manage to stem your tears long enough to ask about him.

“Is Turk okay?” you ask in a thick voice, and it's disconcerting how vulnerable and small you sound.

“He's doing all right,” Perry answers readily, his eyes rimmed with red. “But don't you worry about anyone but yourself. Gotta get you healthy.” Perry kisses your hand with an overwhelming softness. You can tell there's something else he wants to say, so you press.

“Perry, what is it?” you ask softly, wiping the last of the tears from your cheeks, more carefully when you feel the stitches.

“Newbie, who did this to you?” he asks, and his voice is wrecked. It pulls at your heartstrings, and you want to reach out to comfort him. You try, but fall back to the bed when the pain takes your breath away. Broken ribs.

As much as it pains you to think about it, you wrack your brain for details. “I don't know,” you say truthfully, your voice quiet. “I'm sorry, I couldn't see their faces. There were four of them. They were drunk and I just remember them cornering me and...” You trail off, shaking your head vehemently, which does nothing for your throbbing headache.

Perry shushes you, gently. “It's okay, JD, you're safe now. You don't have to talk about it right now.” He keeps his voice calm and soothing, though you know he wants to find the men who did this and make them pay. But he stays with you. And that speaks volumes.

 

**Step 3:** Act Normal

 

The only way, you figure, to go back to normal is to pretend things _are_ normal. You ask the nurses about their husbands or children or pets, making casual conversation like you're not sitting in a hospital bed with broken ribs, a concussion, and a good number of stitches. They've also been watching your kidneys carefully because, judging by the massive bruising on your back, you were kicked there quite a lot. But you're fine, you tell everyone. Healing nicely, thank you for asking. Be back to normal soon.

The police question you as soon as you're deemed fit. They aren't there long. You don't have much to tell them because you don't know who attacked you. You just tell them where you were and why they attacked you. The news travels fast and soon the entire hospital knows every detail, meaning they know _why_ you were attacked. It doesn't bother you as much as you anticipated.

Perry has been by your side every waking minute, but you finally send him home to sleep and shower. You're feeling a little regretful about that at the moment, but on the outside, you're smiling at everyone who comes into your room to wish you a speedy recovery. You thank them graciously and accept all the flowers and cards. Even Kelso stops by to see how you're doing, though he spends half the time talking about his son's latest lover. You know it's his way of showing his support, that he might actually care, so you tell him you appreciate it. And you do, but you're getting tired again from all the pain medications.

You miss Perry's hand around yours. You don't let yourself call him and ask him to come back. He needs to sleep and eat a decent meal. Carla drove him back to the apartment after you asked her to make sure he actually did those things. You love Carla. She's been nothing but supportive through the whole thing, and really, since the first day you met her. She doesn't coddle you, not even now, since you've been in the hospital. She doesn't make you talk about things and when she's around, you _do_ feel like things are normal.

 

**Step 4:** Put On a Brave Face

 

It is finally decided that you're fit to go home, though Kelso insists you take a few weeks off to rest and recuperate (and deal with the emotional side of things, though he never says anything of the sort). You're looking forward to going home, but not for the weeks off. Perry tries to take his vacation days then so he can be with you, but you tell him absolutely not. You'll be fine, you say. The hospital needs him. What can he do for you anyway?

You fill out the necessary discharge paperwork, signing your name here and there. Perry wheels you out – hospital policy, of course – but he helps you to the car from the door because you knows you hate not being independent. You're still a little on the weak side and walking is a bit difficult, but there's no reason to sit in the hospital any longer now that you're out of the woods from any kidney damage or complications from your head wounds.

You are silent on the ride home, though you're grateful that Perry reaches for your hand. He's been so doting and loving through this whole thing that you're even more sure about marrying him than you already were. You know it hurts him to see you like this, in pain and much more subdued than usual. He misses _his_ JD. You desperately want to be that person again, but it's not that easy. You're not sure anything will ever be that easy again.

Perry helps you up the stairs and down the hall to your apartment. He unlocks the door, flipping on the lights as he helps you over to the couch. You sit down gingerly and lean back against the cushions, closing your eyes for a moment. You're exhausted, mentally and physically, and it feels good to be home, to be where you're comfortable. Perry asks if he can get you anything, a pillow, a glass of water, the remote? You tell him water is fine, and that you can get the remote yourself. While Perry is in the kitchen getting your water, you lean forward for the remote and it quickly becomes apparent that's not happening. The pain in your ribs flares up and you collapse back against the couch. You hate everything in that moment, but you hate yourself the most. When Perry comes back you smile at him and thank him. When he asks, you tell him everything is fine.

 

**Step 5:** Sleep

 

You're glad Perry says the two of you should go to bed, that you've had a long day. You've been trying not to nod off for the better part of three hours and you're exhausted, but you didn't want to ask. You manage to get to the bedroom on your own, gritting your teeth through the pain. You flinch when Perry starts pulling up your shirt. Both of you have seen the bruises that cover your body and you can't get rid of the image of Perry's face when he saw them. You shrink away from his touch. You fall asleep on the far side of the bed in your t-shirt and sweatpants.

You wake in the middle of the night with tear stains on your cheeks. You carefully turn over and see Perry lying on his back like he always does, and you know you'd fit against his chest perfectly, but you can't bring yourself to move closer to him. You feel isolated, untouchable, even though you know Perry wants nothing more than to hold you and make everything okay. But it doesn't work that way and it never has.

The rest of the night, you are restless. You have to sleep in strange positions so you can breathe properly, and none of them are comfortable. Every time you close your eyes, you see the dark street, the alley, flashes of the ambulance that you were barely conscious enough to see. Perry wakes up around three in the morning and sees you staring at the ceiling.

“Newbie,” he whispers, hesitantly reaching out for you.

You make a small noise of acknowledgment to let him know you're not dead. A small part of you wishes you were.

“Can't sleep?” he asks gently, his voice still a whisper.

You shake your head. You don't look at him.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Can I touch you?”

He's breaking your fucking heart. “Yes.”

He moves close to you, and very gently and slowly, brings you to rest against his chest, running a hand up and down your arm. You don't hold onto him. You just lay there, still, but at least you can relax a little. You feel numb. Disconnected. You finally fall asleep again.

 

**Step 6:** Break

 

You've been home for five days when it happens. Perry's at work, due home in about half an hour. You snap. You lose it. Fuck those guys for doing this to you, for ruining everything you worked so hard to build. You throw a pillow across the room, ignoring the way your ribs protest, the way it makes you lose your breath. You want to scream. You do. You scream and throw things until it's too much and you fall onto the couch, angry tears streaming down your cheeks. You _feel._

Perry walks in the door exactly twelve minutes after his shift ends and he freezes in the doorway. There are pillows on the floor, broken glass at his feet. You are still on the couch, your hands covering your head as you fold in on yourself. Perry rushes over to you, lifts your chin with his fingers.

“JD, what happened?” he asks, horrified, not by the state of the apartment, but by you.

You shake your head. You're not sure you even know. “I just... I'm not _numb_ anymore,” you manage to say and your voice shakes with emotion. “Everything was going so well before... before this happened and I just want things to be _normal_.”

Perry rubs your back, letting you ramble and cry into his shirt. “It will be normal again, Newbie,” he says soothingly. “Just give it time. You'll be okay. I love you.”

 

**Step 7:** Give It Time

 

Things get easier. You get help, talk to someone a couple times a week. You're able to talk about things with Perry now. You don't feel as numb anymore. Your ribs slowly heal. Your bruises start to fade. You actually allow yourself to get excited about wedding planning. You go back to work.

You still have nightmares, but you don't let them get the best of you. You can cope better now. You go back to journaling, and it surprises you how much you missed it. You let Perry help when you have a hard time. You don't expect him to snap his fingers and make everything perfect, but he does help, probably even more than you gave him credit for. He's gentle, understanding. He doesn't pressure you on anything, even when it takes you a long time to let him undress you, to kiss down your body. It doesn't surprise you when you find how much you missed him.

You know things won't ever go back to exactly as they were before it happened, but you're doing better all the time. There are good days and bad days, as can be expected. You appreciate the good days, and work your way through the bad ones. You know that someday you'll be better. Maybe even better than before, you think. Those thoughts usually come when Perry looks at you with all the love and devotion in the world.

 


End file.
